128 FLICKER 



far-reacliing clape^ that makes our pulses leap 

 witli the assurance that the cold silence of winter 

 is broken and spring has come. At the sound of 

 the familiar voice we hurry toward it, but may 

 have a long distance to hunt, for it carries far 

 through the woods. The first glimpse of the 

 splendid great bird repays us for our tramp. 

 High up on a tree trunk he may be clinging, 

 Woodpecker fashion, with his back to us, the scar- 

 let patch on the back of his neck showing to good 

 advantage. How strong and powerful he seems ! 

 To the beginner wdio has puzzled his brains and 

 strained his ears and eyes over the faint notes and 

 the confusing forms of small migrants vanishing 

 through the treetops, the sight of such a big, 

 strikingly marked bird at rest is a double satis- 

 faction. There is no mistaking his call, there is 

 no mistaking his person. Even when he flies — 

 with undulating motion — the big, round white 

 spot at the base of his tail marks him as far as 

 he can be seen. 



Once placed in the w^oods, the Flicker should 

 be kept track of. Soon his companions wdll come, 

 and with the soft spring days his ' thoughts will 

 turn to love,' and then he will merit the closest 

 attention, for he is a gallant wooer, full of origi- 

 nal ways. " It is an exceedingly interesting and 

 amusing sight," Major Bendire tells us, " to see a 

 couple of males paying their addresses to a coy 

 and coquettish female ; the apparent shyness of 



